Help Me Out
by Kaileikehe
Summary: [I, Robot] (Rated for language) USR is making robots again, Miko Clark is a woman that forgot how to help, and Sonny is the one who needs it most. Read and Review please!


D/C-A/N: Haha, another I, Robot fic! To all the staff, make a section for the movie already! Anymoo, here goes.

......

If you could see anywhere in the world, at anytime, where would you look? And what would you see? Why would you look there?

Detective Clark asked herself that every day, wondered if she'd watch the day she celebrated her 10th and relive that moment of terror over and over again till tears streamed down her face and she collapsed from unbearable sorrow. Having a birthday on the day the infamous super computer Viki took over all the NS-5s and tried to start a revolution had its downside. Something to do with the fact it was one of the darkest days in human history. But she had to admit, it was intriguing.

At the exact height of five and a half feet and the age of twenty three, Miko Clark could beat up any overly confident jackass that came her way and finish up the buddy that came with for desert. She had a short boy cut that she spiked up every day and, for a reason no one in the force could imagine, it was a dark pink. No one ever challenged her on why, seeing as if they did, not only would they receive a death glare Clark was famed for, they'd walk away from it sporting a black eye as well.

Of course, the ban on the robots had lifted three years ago, and the streets were once more filled with the metal machines. The laws had received an interesting rewrite, seeing as the humans still wanted obedient slaves, but did not want the Viki Revolution, as they called it, to repeat. So now, the laws read:

_-A robot must not harm a human, or through inaction, let a human come to **immediate** harm. _

_-A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. _

_-A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law._

That was it. Only one word variation, but it made all the difference in the world. At least, that is what the scientists at USR said. Of course, they said, the first law was much more complex now, with certain specifications on the whole pollution and criminal side of the problem. The robots also received built in capabilities that allowed them to come to a better decision, as in the Sarah/Spooner case, where, if a child and an adult were in the danger, the robots would be able to:

(a)Calculate the probability of surviving.

(b)Judge the age of the humans.

(c)Rescue the child as long as they were not below a 2% chance of surviving.

This had some rough spots, simply because groups could be larger than that. USR had a supposed plan for that as well, being that if the robot had time, they were to continue to rescue the people, going from youngest to oldest until they could no longer rescue anyone and/or had rescued everyone.

All in all, it made the robots perfect. Except for one, tiny problem.

Sonny was missing.

That was the main reason Detective Miko Clark was in her office at an hour that no sensible human being would be awake at.

It was a grueling task. Anyone and everyone who had come in contact with Sonny had to be interviewed, given a background check, and if needed, subjected to a lie detector test. That included all the NS-5s waiting to be decommissioned. Millions and millions of them and every single last one had to be interviewed.

"This is pointless." Clark muttered.

"I hear ya."

Clark glanced up at her partner, Detective John Glass, before returning to her computer screen. She felt an itch of irritation and slammed her fist down on the keyboard. Glass flinched, but kept his eyes on his own work.

"I'm going home, John. Message me anything important, but other than that, don't bother me."

"Right." Glass muttered, knowing fully well that Clark was telling him not her to bug her no matter what or he wouldn't live to see the daylight of the next day.

Clark grabbed her coat and tugged it on, nudging the door open with her shoulder. Cheap government bastards wouldn't give them a decent budget, so practically everything but the computers and guns were out of date.

The night was chilly and crisp, cold enough that Clark could see her breath fan out before her in icy clouds. Her combat boots thudded against the sidewalk as she walked, and her hand rested on her gun. Walking on the streets in Chicago at night wasn't exactly safe, so Clark made sure to keep her gun within arms reach at all times.

Clark wondered what it would be like to never feel, never know emotion. She wondered a lot, about anything that she saw fit for thinking. It helped her see things; understand what was going on much faster than most. And it kept her from feeling the pain the hid at the edges of her mind, hungry to explode forth again.

An apartment complex loomed in front of Clark and she climbed the steps, kicking the rickety door open out of habit. She stepped inside and peeled off her coat, relieved to be warm again.

"Good evening Miko dear. You're up late."

"Evening Bosely." Clark said to a homeless man who sat just inside the door as she sifted through her mail. "Anything interesting happen today?"

The man shifted under the mass of filthy rags that served as his bed.

"One of those 'ole NS-5s came in here. Haven't seen him leave yet. Wonder who he was owned by. Mighty old version to own right now, with the new fangled NS-12s coming out."

"They're already on twelve?" Clark joked.

"Yep." Bosely said, not noticing Clark's teasing tone.

"Night Bosely. Take care of yourself." Clark stepped into the elevator pressing the door close button.

"Will do!" Bosely cried as the elevator glided upward.

Clark stepped out of the elevator on the 21st floor and took out her key, opening the door without a second thought. She stepped inside the dark apartment and tossed her keys on the counter and her coat on the couch. She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a sweating can of pop and some leftover pizza. Kicking the fridge door close with a foot, she walked into her bedroom and turned on the light.

She gasped and dropped both the pizza and the pop on the floor. With a sudden wave of adrenalin she whipped out her gun and pointed it at the intruder, who was, in fact, a robot.

"Evening Detective. I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor. You see, I'm in danger, and I need help."

"Who are you? Why would a robot need my help?" Clark said, eyeing the robot. It was an older version, and on of its plastic arm plates looked as though it had been partially melted. It smiled kindly at her and winked.

"I am Sonny."


End file.
